


All his children

by Tame_my_wild_heart



Category: Mission: Impossible (TV 1988)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 02:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20716298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tame_my_wild_heart/pseuds/Tame_my_wild_heart





	All his children

Grant crept through the hangar. The tiny device in his hand bleeped intermittently as he methodically scanned the building for his target. According to his watch, it had been almost an hour since he started his search. Initially it had sounded so easy. Get in, find the crucial, final bit of evidence that they needed, and the whole nasty little organisation would come crumbling down. This one had felt personal to Grant. Even more so than the Neo-Nazi group they had destroyed. Black people still had it hard enough without being exploited by some grubby little protection racket. He had always envied his father’s ability to not let the missions get to him. But he never could remove his feelings completely, he felt that if he did, he wouldn’t be human. Mentally, he scolded himself for getting distracted. Concentrate on the task at hand. As the minutes passed he felt himself beginning to panic. It should be here. Jim had been so certain. But it was beginning to look as though their infallible leader had finally guessed wrong. Grant didn’t hold it against him. It had to happen eventually; after all, nobody was perfect. Giving it up for lost; he turned and headed for the door. Timing was now everything. He knew the guards would be patrolling the exterior. Moving silently, he didn’t see the cable snaking across the floor twelve feet away. His foot caught and he stumbled, blindly reaching out for anything stable. He was out of luck. There was no way the crash had gone unnoticed. Grant froze in the vain hope that he was sufficiently hidden in the darkness. Even through closed eyes, the torch light was blinding. As he was dragged to his feet, he feigned putting up a fight, taking advantage of the commotion to divest himself of some of his equipment. He couldn’t risk them being found on him.

***

In the relative safety of their temporary base, Jim Phelps was feeling agitated. He paced the floor, repeatedly checking both his watch and communicator. Grant should have been back by now, or at least been in contact. The other members of the team shared a look of concern, all wanting to speak, yet none quite knew the right thing to say. Nicholas looked up from where he was going back over the files. He took a breath and decided to bite the bullet. “Jim, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.” His attempt at levity went down like a lead balloon. Jim whirled to face him. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it, opting instead to drop into the nearest chair. Shannon brought over a cup of coffee. Jim gave her a grateful smile. She squeezed his arm. “Try and get some rest. We’ll wake you the minute there’s any news. I know you’re worried about him. We all are. But he’s smart, and tough. He’ll be fine. After all, he’s his father’s son.” Jim’s head shot up at the mention of his friend. He cared deeply for all the members of his team, but Grant was different. The responsibility felt different. Grant’s father Barney was his best and closest friend, and Jim had vowed to keep him safe. He lay down on the camp bed, not planning on doing much more than resting his eyes. Nicholas nodded at Shannon. “I’ll take first watch. Max will wake you for your turn." Jim woke during Shannon’s second watch and poured them both some coffee. He was proud of his team. When they weren’t sleeping or on watch, they were out, looking for any sign of their friend. Wherever they were holding him was obviously extremely well hidden. His reverie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Jim yanked it open, hoping and expecting to see his young friend. 

***

Instead, a young girl stood in the doorway. She darted inside. Jim’s keen eye took in her appearance. It bothered him. Her red hair, hanging limply down to her lower back was clearly in a state of neglect. The haunted, sad look in her eyes made him wonder just whose fault that was. She thrust a canvas bag at him. Nicholas appeared, offering her a cup of coffee. As soon as he got within inches of her, she slapped it out of his hand. The sound of china hitting the concrete floor cut through the silence like a gunshot. Shards of china and hot liquid flew in all directions. And in the time it took for the pieces to fall, she was gone. Jim started rifling through the bag. His heart sank. It contained all Grant’s gear. The last thing he wanted to see. Obviously, he had been caught. One look at his face told the others everything they needed to know.  
“Is the mission blown?”  
“I don’t know. We need to find that girl. She was the last person to see Grant. And we need to know who else knows we’re here.”  
“Surely we have to assume our location is compromised?”  
“Not necessarily. But we’ll pack up so we’re ready to move out if we need to. Max, you and I’ll do that. Nicholas, Shannon, see if you can find her. We need to know what she knows. But be careful. We can’t be sure she can be trusted, and I don’t think she trusts us.”  
Shannon nodded. “She looked terrified of something.” She and Nicholas headed out of the door.  
Max got to work breaking down and packing up their kit. He worked as quickly as he could, glad of a task to occupy him. He watched Jim out of the corner of his eye the whole time. If he himself was worried about Grant, then he knew that the older man must be beside himself. He knew that if they didn’t find him in time, Jim would never forgive himself.

***

The first thing that Grant became aware of was that it was dark. The second was that he was unable to move. At first he couldn’t work out why he was there, wherever there was, but his mind started to clear, and his memory returned. Suddenly a white light flicked on. So bright it hurt him, it shone directly in his face. He could feel the heat of the bulb on his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the light was only slightly dimmed by his eyelids. He could hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and soon got the feeling that he was no longer alone. “Well, this is a cliché.” Fortunately, the chair he was tied to was fixed to the floor, otherwise the impact of the gloved hand would have knocked him to the ground. His captor now stood in front of him, partially silhouetted by the light. “I promise you will not find this so amusing when I have finished with you. Who are you?” Grant just shook his head, glaring at the man. He repeated himself. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Who is your contact?” Grant merely continued his silence. The interrogator merely kept repeating himself. Then other voices joined in. The same questions, repeated, overlapping, in non-stop monotonous drones. Over and over, round and round. In an attempt to shut them out, Grant began counting prime numbers in his head. One, two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen... it became hard to concentrate. By the time he got through the first thousand, the questions were still coming at him. Then, as suddenly as it all started, it stopped. The light went off and he was once more alone in the dark. 

***

Shannon and Nicholas were searching the streets. Not having heard an engine before the girl's sudden arrival, they presumed she was on foot, but she’d still had quite a head start. The streets were laid out in a grid pattern, much like New York, so it was easy to work methodically. However, there seemed to be no sign of her. Nicholas kicked over the nearest garbage bin in frustration. “Dammit! She could be anywhere. Even with fifty people, we might never find her.”  
Shannon squeezed his hand. “Don’t give up hope. We’ll find her. Have faith.”  
“I hope your right. For Grant’s sake.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. Looking around him, he pointed to his left. “We didn’t check down there yet. You go that way, and I’ll go th-....” A metallic clang sounded from somewhere off to their right. “Over there!” Running towards the sound they found rubbish spilled across the street. Shannon froze and her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s here.” Nicholas’ head jerked up. Crouched in a dark corner, her eyes were wide and terrified. Nicholas took one step forward, she cowered back. Shannon pulled him away and stepped slowly toward the girl. This time she stayed where she was. Shannon smiled at her. “My name’s Shannon. Can I talk to you?” The girl nodded. “We’re looking for our friend. You brought his things back to us. Do you know where he is?” She nodded. “When you saw him, was he...alive?” Again, she nodded. Nicholas let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He pulled out his communicator and sent a message to Jim. Turning his attention back to Shannon, he watched as she tried in vain to coax the girl out of her hiding place. They did not have time for this. He reached for his dart gun and fired. She dropped like a stone. Shannon whirled to face him. “What the hell did you do that for? It was working; she was beginning to trust me.”  
“It was taking too long. Time Grant does not have.”  
Shannon had to concede that Nicholas had a point. She checked the hiding place for anything useful while Nicholas gently lifted the unconscious girl. It didn’t take long to get her back to Jim. The fact that she hadn’t gone far implied that she had had no chance to blow their cover. Jim pulled a vial from his pocket and snapped it open, releasing the gas that would revive their guest. Her eyes snapped open and she scrambled to her feet, swaying unsteadily. Jim steadied her. His grip on her shoulders was gentle, yet firm enough that she couldn’t escape. He helped her into a chair and gave her some water. She eyed it suspiciously, and waited. Jim shared a glance with his colleagues. Knocking people out and snatching them off the street was hardly uncommon practice for his team, but doing it to a frightened young girl was another matter entirely. He took a deep breath and sat opposite her. “I’m sorry we had to bring you here like this. We don’t want to scare you and we’re not going to hurt you, but we do need your help. Do you understand?” She nodded. “You told Shannon you know where our friend is. Well, we really need to find him. Can you take us to him?” She shook her head. Jim frowned at her. He wanted to scream, to beg, to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, but kept himself in check. “Why not?” A look of confusion crossed her face, like someone who can’t find the right words to say. Nicholas passed her a notepad and pencil. She took it and her left hand moved across the page. When she was done, she flipped the pad over. 'Can’t go back there. Too dangerous.' An uneasy feeling settled in Nicholas’ heart. He knelt by her. “Honey, why don’t you speak?” She wrote again. 'Not allowed. Get punished. Daddy will hurt me'. Her face coloured with shame, she suddenly became fascinated with a loose thread on the hem of her top, unwilling to meet their eyes. Max left the room, no doubt looking for something to hit, Shannon following. Nicholas shared a look with Jim. The younger man simmered with barely concealed rage. Jim crouched down in front of her. Although his dedication to his job and his country had prevented him from having children of his own, he wasn't immune to them. “I know you’re scared, but our friend needs us. I promise to keep you safe, if you’ll at least show us where he is. I promise you we won’t let anyone hurt you again. We have maps and plans, can you show us on them?” She nodded. He gave her a grateful smile and, realising she must be hungry, he brought her a sandwich. While she ate, he moved away slightly with the others while they formulated a plan. When he turned back she was gone.

***

They had taken his watch. With no access to natural light, Grant had no way of knowing how long he had been there. There had been four more sessions, the same as the first. Counting primes was still helping him to focus, but it was getting hard to concentrate. He knew he was dehydrated and he needed to eat. His stomach was beginning to cramp and he felt cold. Come on guys, Where are you? I think I’m in real trouble this time. He was seriously beginning to doubt whether he could hold out much longer. The footsteps were back. The light flicked on and he felt a sharp sting in his arm. Then the questions started again. “Who are you? Who are you working for? Who is your contact?” The interrogator bent down to Grant’s eye line. “You will talk. I have invented my own truth drug. You will talk or you will die.”  
“Bite me.” Grant shot back. He hoped he sounded more defiant than he felt. Whatever they had given him was making him feel like his blood was on fire. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous. He could feel himself giving in. Panic set in at the thought that he might not be able to stop himself from betraying his friends. As a last resort he bit down hard on his tongue, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. Hoping he would pass out from the pain, he felt the gloved hands at his throat. His captor was loosing patience. He stared defiantly back. “You. Will. Talk.”  
“Over my dead body.”  
“Fine. Have it your way.” Cold gunmetal pressed against his forehead. This was it. But the never-ending blackness never came. He heard the impact of one body hitting another body, which somehow caused the light to angle upward. Once his eyes adjusted he saw his captor on the floor and someone with long red hair was kneeling behind him. Suddenly his hands and feet were free. He massaged his wrists and ankles, trying to banish the pins-and-needles feeling that came with the circulation returning. He and his rescuer were heading for the door when they heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked. “Don’t move, either of you. “ He moved round to face them. Instinctively, Grant moved slightly, trying to put himself between her and the gunman. But the man reached out, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and dragged her toward him. “Did you think you could defy me, maggot? Remember what happens when you disobey me? Get back where you belong.” He threw her viciously to the ground. There was a sickening thud as her head hit the concrete floor. Grant was ready to kill him. But again he found himself staring down the bullet of a gun. At almost the same instant than he heard the shot, he felt himself being thrown to the floor. Before he had fully registered exactly what had happened, he was on his feet. One solid punch knocked the man out cold. But Grant couldn’t make himself stop. He kept on hitting him, until he felt a small hand on his shoulder. He looked up. She was pale and shaking, blood oozing from a head wound. But the biggest problem was the gunshot to her stomach. He had to get her somewhere safe to treat her injuries. She was small; she would be easy to carry. He picked her up and made a break for the exit.

***

“Just how many disappearing acts is that girl going to do?” Jim knew that Nicholas’ rant was caused by frustration and fear. He tried to wait patiently for his younger friend to finish yelling.  
“Jim! Look at this.” The urgency in Max’s voice caught the attention of both him and Nicholas. They both rushed to see what they had found. Some marks had been added to one of the maps. Someone had drawn a red circle round one building with a cross in one corner of it. “This must be where Grant is.”  
“Right. Let’s go.” The men were half way out the door when Jim realised Shannon wasn’t with them. He turned back. “Shannon?”  
“She left a note. I know where she is.” Jim reached for the notepad Shannon was holding out. 'Sorry. Had to leave. Gone to find your friend. Don’t want you to get hurt. Thank you for being kind.' Jim looked up at his team. They all shared the same look of horror. “Jim, she needs us...” Nicholas began.  
“I know Nicholas. We’ll do what we can. If we find her we won’t leave her there. But Grant needs us too. Let’s go.”  
The drive across town to the warehouse took a little over an hour. Max was itching to put his foot down, but knew he couldn’t risk doing anything that would draw attention to them. He settled for a vice-like grip on the steering wheel and grinding his teeth. The car journey proceeded in total silence. Nicholas watched his teammates. Shannon looked like she was trying very hard not to burst into tears. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he saw Jim watching them. The elder agents face was one of grim determination. Nicholas watched as he loaded his gun, not with tranquiliser bullets. Clearly, he was unspeakably angry. He couldn’t help but remember what Jim had said to him on their first mission, when he came face to face with his friend’s killer. 'I wanted to kill him.' Jim wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. But his love for his team, almost equal to that of a father’s love for his children, might just push him over the edge. And Nicholas was genuinely afraid of what, after the dust settled, that would do to him.  
They finally pulled up a short distance from the warehouse. Jim wanted to go the rest of the way on foot. Slipping in through the nearest door, they made their way down a flight of stairs. Max, at the back of the group, stumbled a few steps from the bottom. As most of his weight came down on the bottom step, there was a crack as his foot disappeared between the planks of wood. Jim swore under his breath and set to work freeing his friend. As Max checked himself for injury, Jim looked inside the hole he had made. His eyebrows shot up and he reached inside. He pulled out a box file. A very quick glance told them that this was the information Grant had been looking for in the first place. Nicholas snorted. “Grant came in this way too. Shame he’s not as clumsy as you.” Max grinned good-naturedly. At least the mission wasn’t a total bust. Jim cracked open the door into the room they were looking for. Opening it as wide as he dared, he established (as far as he could) that the room was empty. He nodded to the others and they fanned out to scour the room. Quietly checking every nook and cranny for any sign of their lost friend, they finally reconvened in the centre of the room. There were obvious signs of a struggle. However, there was no sign of Grant nor their mysterious friend.  
“God, No.” The pain in Nicholas’ voice brought everybody’s torches to bear on him. They flicked their lights down to see what he was looking at. Just under the edge of his shoe was a pool of blood. It was a lot of blood, more than it could be safe to lose. Max was the first to collect himself. "I’ll take a sample. Test it on the computer, maybe it’s not his. There has to have been more than one person in this room." Jim nodded. His torch was following a blood trail that led to another door. “You do that. We’ll follow this. Be careful. And call the second you know.” Jim stuck his head through the next door. It led outside. Quickly, they followed the trail across the grass.  
“Jim?”  
“Yeah, Shannon?”  
“That was a lot of blood. Could someone really walk away from that?”  
“Maybe. Depends how strong they are. And what kind of injury it is.”  
Nicholas chuckled. “I knew he’s too stubborn to die.”  
Jim’s communicator chirped. He whipped it out. “Max?”  
“It’s not his. It’s not Grant’s blood.” There was a collective sigh of relief.  
“We’re by the edge of the forest. Come and join us.”  
While they waited for Max to catch up they searched for any sign of the blood trail. Suddenly he appeared out of the dark. “Now that we know that’s not Grant’s blood, why are we still going this way? There’s nothing to suggest he’s here.”  
Jim rounded on him. “Because I don’t know what else to do! I am going to find him, if it’s the last thing I ever do. I sent him in there, and I will not lose another agent. Not her, and not like this. Grant is not going to die. I won’t allow it. But if you have a another idea, or a better suggestion, I would love to hear it.”  
It was a rare thing to see Max intimidated. It was even rarer to see that kind of rage on Jim’s face. Max stood there, completely shocked, while Jim stormed off into the dark forest. Nicholas put a brotherly hand on Max’s shoulder. “Don’t take it to heart. He’s not really angry with you. He’s just bloody terrified.” They tried to see where he had gone, but the light from his torch had already faded from view.  
“I’ve had a thought.” Shannon was examining a patch of broken fern. “What if it’s her blood? Maybe they’re together? However hurt he is, if he can walk, he’d never leave her behind.” They took off running in the direction they had last seen Jim.

***

Grant had carried her as far as his exhausted body would allow. On reaching the forest he had been forced to slow to a walking pace, unwilling to risk falling on uneven terrain. The shafts of moonlight cutting through the trees were just bright enough for him to make out a tiny stone hut hidden deep among the bushes. Praying that they had finally got a bit of luck, he approached it cautiously. It appeared abandoned. Lowering his precious cargo gently to the ground, he got to work on the door. Fortunately, the lock was so rusty and corroded that it gave way with little resistance. Poking his head round the door, he gave it the once over. Weighing up his options, he decided that the spattering of rain he had felt was likely the start of something worse and that any port in a storm, as it were. Bringing her inside, he made her as comfortable as he could. Now that they were in relative safety, he could take the time to properly assess their situation. They both needed rest, and she was desperately in need of medical attention. His heart leapt when, on lighting a match, he spotted a tap next to a pile of logs. Trying the tap, he waited with bated breath, and rejoiced when a familiar gurgle resulted in water gushing out of the tap. He even managed to find a cooking pot. Grant opted not to look this particular gift horse in the mouth and quickly set to work making a fire. They needed the warmth, and the water needed boiling to make it safe. He doubted it would taste great, but at least it wouldn’t give them dysentery. The fire lit, he put a pot of water on to boil and tried to work out how to approach his next task. The cut on her head seemed to have stopped bleeding, but would still need cleaning. That was the easy bit. The stomach wound was a big worry. There was no exit wound, but he had no way of knowing whether there was any internal bleeding or damage to her organs. In lieu of anything else to use for a dressing, he peeled off his t-shirt and tore it into strips. Moving the bottom half of her top away from her skin, he gently started to clean around the wound. His fingers brushed along her lower ribs, and he frowned. They felt cracked. He lifted her top a little farther up and gasped. Her entire right side was one giant bruise. It was clearly weeks old. Grant decided not to look any further, partly because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, and partly because it felt wrong to do it without her consent. He finished cleaning her wound and improvised a dressing. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to bleed to death immediately, he gently moved her closer to the fire. He eased her head into his lap and managed to pour a little water into her mouth, massaging her throat to make her swallow. Finally, he had some himself. With no task to immediately occupy him, it was hard to ignore how awful he actually felt. His body craved sleep; but he knew that it wasn’t safe. He needed to stay awake for the girl who had saved his life; yet whose name he didn’t even know. He kept talking to her, not about anything in particular. He hoped that she could hear him and would know that she was safe, but in truth he knew it was probably helping him more than her. It felt forever since he had anything but silence. He kept giving her small amounts of water; a task to focus on helped. Outside the wind was howling up a storm, and the rain was coming down in sheets, but in spite of that, he could have sworn he heard someone call his name. Dragging himself to the door on shaky legs, he threw it open. For a moment he thought he must be hallucinating. At last, his exhausted body gave up the fight and he collapsed into his leader’s arms. 

***

Jim got Grant back inside the hut and closed the door against the biting wind. Shrugging off his soaked overcoat and jacket he laid them out so the fire would dry them. Shaking with relief, he quickly set about checking Grant for injuries. There were several cuts and bruises to his face, the worst of which looked suspiciously like a fractured cheekbone. His top garments were missing, having been used for first aid, which made Jim’s job a little easier. He felt a couple of broken ribs and there was a vicious bruise on his back which hinted at potential damage to the kidneys. What really shocked him was the papery quality to his skin; a sure sign that he was severely dehydrated. Fortunately there was still some boiled water in the pan. Acutely aware that he wasn't the only one in need of help, he fed him the water as quickly as possible. Jim frowned as Grant shivered. He was going into shock. Jim yanked off his sweater and carefully pulled it over his young friend. Mindful of his back, he pulled him closer to the fireplace. Checking the man’s pulse, he felt desperately afraid when he felt how slow it was. He scowled at the deep cuts round his wrists. He made a mental note to make sure he cleaned them. Grant was usually such a ball of energy. It was unnatural for him to be so quiet and still. “Come on, Grant. I haven’t come all this way for you to freeze to death.” He folded his jacket into a makeshift pillow and covered him with his overcoat. Now he turned his attention to the other patient. “Well, I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies. At least you can’t run away this time.” Assessing her injuries he realised how well Grant had done, with no supplies and carrying injuries of his own. But they needed more. The bullet had to come out. He was about to call the rest of the team when he heard shouting nearby. Going to the door, he was relieved to see his friends. Ushering them in, he set Shannon and Nicholas to looking after Grant. The first aid skills he had acquired in the military were sufficient to allow him to remove the bullet from the girl. Fortunately, she hadn’t sustained too much damage, and Jim was able to clean and suture the wound. A shot of a broad-spectrum antibiotic would hopefully prevent any infection. Max worked studiously under his direction, But Jim could feel the tension in the air. “Max. Max, I’m sorry I shouted at you. I guess the whole situation just got a bit too much, you know? A bit too close.” Finally Max realised what had been eating away at his friend. Jim could never forgive himself for what had happened to Casey. He doubted that any of them would have coped if history had repeated itself. 

***

Once the weather had abated somewhat, Max and Nicholas went back for the truck and their equipment. They would be some time loading up. In the meantime Jim and Shannon kept a watchful eye on their patients. Jim’s sharp eyes were examining Grant, when he became aware of the brown ones staring back at him. “Grant! Oh, thank god.” He pulled the younger man into a tight hug, desperate to prove to himself that he wasn’t imagining it. Grant winced as his back protested. “Okay, Jim. Oxygen becoming an issue now.” Afraid he had aggravated an injury, he carefully released him. Shannon’s hug was more cautious, but no less heartfelt, and certainly no less welcome. “You had us scared to death. Don’t you ever do that again.” He didn’t answer her, so she turned to see what he was looking at. Their nameless heroine was sleeping, curled up as small as she possibly could.  
“Who sleeps like that?”  
“Someone who’s too damn scared to sleep any other way.” Jim laid a hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. She sat bolt upright, ready to scream. This time he was ready for it. “Shush, ssh, ssh, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe. We’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we owe you a lot. You saved our friend, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am. But you need to heal, so lay back down and try and sleep. As soon as her head hit her makeshift pillow, her eyes closed. He watched as her small body finally relax.  
“Please don’t send me back there.” Three heads snapped in her direction. She was still asleep. “Daddy says I’m bad. Bad girl, bad girl, bad Bella.” Jim had heard enough. There was no way he was going to let her nightmare continue. Gently, he pulled her into his arms, rocking her while she cried. He knew immediately that there was no way he was leaving her behind. Grant smiled. “It’s a good thing fatherhood comes naturally to you.”  
Max and Nicholas returned a couple of hours later. Grant was horrified when he saw how haphazardly they had packed up his equipment. The look on his face had the rest of them laughing so hard even Grant eventually joined in. It felt good to hear it.  
It was surprisingly easy to get the paperwork sorted. Once they turned over their evidence to the proper authorities, they half-hoped it was gratitude that made them process the adoption. In reality they knew it was just to stop her from becoming the state’s problem. Jim knew he had a long road ahead of him. She would need a lot of time, patience, and love. But it would be worth it. From his seat on the plane he watched his new daughter, as she laughed hysterically at whatever story Grant and Nicholas were telling her. He smiled. Who was he kidding? They were all his children.


End file.
